


United

by Naina



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Companionship, Gen, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:31:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9634814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naina/pseuds/Naina
Summary: James can live on his own quite happily. Richard cannot. Jeremy has an idea.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Can I just say that I started this as a joke? I honestly meant to write crack fic. The next thing I knew I was digging up the nitty-gritty details and...yeah. It's pretty much written, so I'll post as I get everything tidied up. Not beta read or Brit-picked, so constructive criticism would be welcome. 
> 
> Set around Series 13 of Top Gear, with Hammond having gone through an amicable divorce.

It begins in Austria. They’ve just finished lunch in a little tavern and James and Jeremy are watching Richard, who is battling with his car’s Sat-Nav. 

“Mind your temper, Hammo!” Jeremy calls, but Richard doesn’t look up from thumping his fist against the dash. “You know, I don’t think our Hamster was quite this volatile before.”

“Not while sober, no.” James shakes out a cig and lights it, sitting down on a bench a safe distance from Hammond and his car. He waits until Jeremy has sat nearby before adding, “Divorce’ll do that, I think. It changes people.”

“‘Course it does.” The bigger man sniffs, and starts his own cigarette. They sit smoking peacefully, at least until Richard starts shouting again. The cluster of sound and camera men around the car fidget, obviously wanting to stay out of range should the focus of their attention explode.

When his cig is done, Jeremy crushes it in the ashtray and leans forward, speaking more quietly to James. “He shouldn’t be alone. Hammond - he’s not built for it.”

James nods absently. Even when he’s not feeling chatty, Hammond is the kind of person who needs company. He doesn’t handle solitude well at all, and living by himself as he is now (though with a cat and a dog) is taking its toll on him. “Well, he’s not about to go looking for a flatmate, is he,” he muses aloud. “Far too high-profile for that.”

“He doesn’t need to. He could move in with you.”

James snorts and taps his cig against the ashtray. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not? He used to stay at yours during filming, and you got on well enough, didn’t you?” 

“Yes," he replies, slowly. Considering. "That was quite a few years ago, though.”

“Like I said, he’s much happier living with someone, and it would do you good as well.”

“I will, as they say, take that into consideration.”

Jeremy's ideas tend to end in disaster (or in flames), but this is one of those damnable times when he's right, and James knows it. So he invites Hammond over more often, they make plans, go on motorcycle trips and generally spend more time together. And it’s good - Richard does seem happier (or at least less volatile) and James can’t complain. Everything’s better for a couple of months, until it abruptly takes a downturn and Richard is back to being grumpy and snappish. James has no idea why - maybe there was an argument with Mindy, maybe the girls were snippy with him or a job had fallen through. He can’t - or won’t - ask, and if Richard is going to open up to one of his colleagues, chances are it’ll be Jezza. 

The next time Richard comes over for dinner, though, he brings it up all by himself.

“God, I miss being married.” 

The admission is barely audible under the sound of the dishwasher being loaded, but James catches it anyway. He plucks two more beers from the fridge and turns back to the kitchen table, setting one bottle in front of his friend. Hammond nods his thanks, features turning more woeful by the moment.

“I was moaning to Jez about divorce the other day, how horrible it all is.”

“What did he say?”

“What everyone says. That I’ll feel like crap for a while, but my life’s not over.” Richard shifts in his chair. “He asked if I thought I’d remarry, and I’d like to, but the thought of finding someone and starting over? That doesn’t really appeal. You know, dating and balancing that with work and the girls, even-” He breaks off with a frown, pulling one knee up to his chest. “If I’m going to share my life with another person, I don’t want someone new, I’d rather it be someone I know, who knows me and my history and all - does that make sense?”

“It does, yeah,” James assures him. “Granted, there’ll be legions of Hamster lovers who’ll be disappointed, but that would be best. Especially with children involved.”

“Right, exactly.” Short, blunt fingernails pick at the denim covering his leg. “So I’ve been thinking about that, off and on. Kind of, well, going over single friends, in my mind. You came up.” Brown eyes flick up to meet James’ for a moment, then Richard continues. “I don’t know if it’s, you know, just a thought or something I might want to pursue. Or something. Sometime in the future.”

“I...er.” James taps his fingers on the table. “What are you telling me? That you’d want to-”

“Right now, I don’t know,” Hammond says quickly. “It’s probably best to forget we talked about this at all.”

_That_ , James thinks, _is far easier said than done_.


	2. Chapter 1 Alternate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I discovered something the other day that I thought had been deleted: the original version of Chapter 1. Turns out, I actually like it more than what made it to the final draft, so I'm including as an alternate chapter. Let me know what you think!

“Mind your temper, Hammo!” Jeremy calls, but Richard doesn’t look up from thumping his fist against the dash. “You know, I don’t think our Hamster was quite this volatile before.”

“Not while sober, no.” James shakes out a cig and lights it, sitting down on a bench a safe distance from Hammond and his car. He waits until Jeremy has sat nearby before adding, “Divorce’ll do that, I think. It changes people.”

“‘Course it does.” The bigger man sniffs, and starts his own cigarette. They sit and smoke, laughing and cringing when Richard starts shouting.

When his cig is done, Jeremy crushes it in the ashtray and leans forward, speaking more quietly to James. “He shouldn’t be alone. Hammond - he’s not built for it.”

James nods absently. Even when he’s not feeling chatty, Hammond is the kind of person who needs company. He doesn’t handle solitude well at all, and living by himself as he is now (though with a cat and a dog) is taking its toll on him. “Well, he’s not about to go looking for a roommate, is he,” he muses aloud. “Far too high-profile for that.”

“No, he should get married.”

James looks at him askance. “Bit abrupt, don’t you think? Especially since he’s not even dating.”

“He doesn’t need to be. Should just marry you.”

He has no idea how to respond to that, so he lets his expression of disbelief speak for him. Jeremy frowns, probably disappointed at the lackluster response, and adds, “He’s happier when he’s with someone, and it would do you good to have him living with you.”

Finishing his own cigarette, James snorts. “In that case, I’d just ask him to move in - _if_ I wanted him to, mind.”

Jeremy, he’s convinced, has gone mad, but the suggestion does have some merit. He invites Hammond over more often, they make plans, go on motorcycle trips and generally spend more time together. And it’s good - Richard does seem happier (or at least less volatile) and James can’t complain. Everything’s better for a couple of months, until it abruptly takes a downturn and Richard is back to being grumpy and snappish. James has no idea why - maybe there was an argument with Mindy, maybe the girls were snippy with him or a job had fallen through. He can’t bring himself to ask, and it’s doubtful Richard will blurt it out.

Of course, this is when Jeremy brings up the idea of marriage, again.

“You do know that I’ve never really wanted that, right?”

“Why not? It’s not like it’ll cramp your lifestyle, especially with someone who has a similar schedule to yours.”

“How do you - have you mentioned this to Hammond? Let me guess, he told you you’re a complete mental and sent you packing.”

Jeremy gives a hint of a smile. It’s secretive without being smug, but it’s still unnerving. “Talk to him. Or at least listen.”

*

James blurts it out as they’re finishing dinner one night: “Jeremy’s been trying to talk me into marrying you.”

Richard sets down his wineglass and covers his face with both hands, muffling the numerous and creative ways he’s going to kill their colleague. “He knew I didn’t want him to say anything, the imbecile.”

“You _knew_?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t my idea, exactly.” He takes a gulp of wine, then sits back. “I’d been moaning to Jez about divorce and how horrible it all is, and how much I miss being married.”

“So somehow he took that as ‘find someone, anyone, for me to marry’?”

Richard looks even more uncomfortable. “Well... He asked if I thought I’d remarry, and I’d like to, but the thought of finding someone and starting over really doesn’t appeal. You know, dating and balancing that with work and the girls, even-” He breaks off with a frown, pulling one knee up to his chest. “If I’m going to share my life with another person, I don’t want someone new, I’d rather it be someone I know.”

“Makes sense,” James tells him. “Especially with children involved.”

“Right, exactly.” Richard picks at the denim covering his leg. “He seemed to get what I meant, and we tossed around some names, sort of jokingly. Single friends. Your name came up. I did tell him not to say anything, that I didn’t know if it was just a thought or something I’d pursue in the future.”

He’s unsure of how to respond to that, and settles with a rather weak, “And now?”

“I still don’t know, which is why I’m going to murder him.”


	3. Chapter 3

Filming wraps up and they both move on to their own projects. During their off season, he doesn’t see or talk to Richard as much. When they do talk, neither of them mention that conversation, but James hasn’t forgotten about it. Over the phone one night, Jeremy brings up Hammond’s grouchiness again with all the tact of a sledgehammer: “May, he clearly needs regular human companionship. You know he’s paying out the nose to live in that squalid little flat?”

“It’s not squalid, it’s perfectly adequate.”

“When it contains a cat, a dog and a morose Hamster, it’s squalid. And don’t tell me to invite him here, Francie’d have my hide. That leaves you.”

“That leaves his brothers, before anyone else. And he does have other friends, you know.”

*

 

He’s not, strictly speaking, opposed to having his friend as a roommate. He can share a house, certainly; making room for another person within this series of walls is no issue, but it’s not the physical that’s the problem. It’s the...more...that makes him hesitate; the idea of sharing a life. That idea of Richard’s carries with it expectations he’s not sure he can fulfill. His insistence on being proper and manly (insensitive and uncommunicative) has already hurt and disappointed one person dear to him in the last year. Richard has been through enough, he doesn’t want to risk making it even worse. As he’d reminded Jezza, Hammond has no shortage of friends to visit, and a close-knit family. He’ll be fine, in time.

But Hammond isn’t fine. There’s keeping busy, but James has seen his mate's diary, and this is beyond that; he’s working himself to the bone. His next project will have him out of country for at least five weeks, and setting up pet care has been a problem. Or, it is until James hears about it, and offers to keep Richard’s pets for the time he’ll be away filming. It could be an exaggeration, but the relief Hammond shows at the suggestion is the closest to happy James has seen him be in months.

Both animals are well-behaved; there are occasional scraps, usually when the dog intrudes the cat’s space, but on the whole they are undemanding and adjust quickly. Sally gets her walks, and Pogo his windowsills. It’s nice - wonderful - to have them here, filling some of the empty space. He hadn’t thought he missed Sarah’s cats, but perhaps he has, even the brainless one. He files away the thought of getting a cat or dog of his own, to reconsider after the pet sitting stint is over.

*

One night, when James is bored but not drunk, he picks up his iPhone and sends a carefully composed text message:

_‘If there’s something you’ve decided to pursue, and my name still comes up, I would say yes.’_

Less than half an hour later, his phone rings, Hammond’s icon popping up on the screen. When he answers, he can hear the tension (or perhaps nervousness) in his friend’s tone. It’s easy to imagine him pacing or shifting about, wherever he is.

“James...”

“Is that okay? If you’ve decided against it, or on someone else, I understand. I’m presuming an awful lot, I know, and-”

“You’re dead right, though.”

“What? I am?”

A shaky laugh comes through. “Yeah, you are. I’d decided - I was planning on asking you once I got home.”

James stands, walking around his lounge. Sally is snoring by the unlit fireplace, and Pogo is sitting atop the piano. “You still can,” he says. “When you pick up your critters. Just, don’t do anything fancy.”

"I know diamonds don't do it for you. What about a ruby? Or - hey, what's your birthstone?”

"Richard!" His laugh wakes the dog, who looks up, her tail thumping on the carpet. “Good lord. No need for an engagement anything, thanks. I’ll wear a - a wedding ring,” the catch in his voice is so slight, it’s audible only to himself, “but we can discuss that once you’re back.”

Richard is gone for eleven more days. A text tells him Hammond’s arrived at his flat, and a few hours later there’s a knock on his door. His friend is tanned and fit, freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes after his long flight.

“Hi.”

James greets him with a handshake and “Good to see you”, smiling and standing aside when an excited Sally rushes up to greet her master. Pogo appears while they’re chatting over an ordered in supper; he stares at Richard for a solid minute, unblinking, jumps into James’s lap to purr against his chest, and then trots back upstairs. Neither man can keep from rolling his eyes at the blatant show of feline disdain.

 

“So...” Richard swirls the remaining ale around the bottom of his glass. “That whole, er, thing we spoke about. Are you still interested?” His nose wrinkles a bit at the last word; perhaps he meant to say something else.

“I am, yeah.” James says without hesitation. Richard drains his glass and sets it down; as if it were a signal, the dog appears from where she’d lain under the table. Her head rests on Richard’s knee as he strokes her head and ears. Watching her, James wishes human affection and happiness were that simple. “I was thinking you could - should move in,” he comments. “I mean, the cat already has - you’ll probably have a fight on your hands if you try to take him with you tonight.”

Hammond looks at him with a strange, almost disappointed expression. “Do you mean instead of?”

“No,” says, slowly. “It’s something I’ve been considering for a while, to be honest.”

“Okay.” Richard smiles, obviously relieved. “When?”

James shrugs. “Well, I don’t know what your lease terms are. I was thinking whenever’s easiest, so we’ll have some time to adjust.” He scratches the back of his head, nerves starting to kick in. "Because we've done all those trips together, but that was work, and filming, and...Look, both of us have had a rough time of it, lately, and I want to - I think we should make sure as best we can that it won't go all pear-shaped."

What he doesn’t know how to ask, or can’t bring himself to: “What do you want out of this?”


	4. Chapter 4

The day of the move, James makes himself scarce, taking Sally with him so she’s not in the way. When they return in the afternoon, he releases an indignant Pogo from the laundry room, then trots up to the second floor in search of Richard. The younger man seems to be almost hiding, sat on the floor as he is among an array of boxes and bags in the guest room. 

“That’s not everything, is it?”

Richard looks up and gives him a tired half-smile. “There’s more clothing and such, but I had them put those in the cedar closet. Which is a brilliant addition, by the way.”

“I just thought you’d have more...” He trails off uncomfortably. 

“The flat came furnished,” Richard reminds him. James nods; while he’d thought that practical at the time, it seems sad now. Most of the boxes bear more than one crossed-out label, a reminder that this is the third move Hammond’s made since his divorce a year and a half ago. Even the most adaptable person would struggle with that; Richard certainly can roll with the punches, but by now he's got to be craving a secure, stable place to call home. The entire venture of living together and possibly getting married makes more sense with that in mind. James had assumed that for the time being, they'd keep separate bed and bathrooms, and once - if - they decided to get a civil union, rearrange things to suit. Seeing his mate now, he knows that separate rooms would be a disappointment; Richard didn't agree to move in with him just to temporarily set up in a bare-bones guest room. He wouldn't kick up a fuss if James insisted, but it wouldn't be a good start to their future partnership.

He taps a few fingers on the nearest box. “Which of these go in the bedroom?”

“In the-?” Confusion gives way to relief in Richard’s face as he digests the question. “Oh. Um. Those two bags there, this box, and... I think it’s a bit mixed in, I lost patience with sorting things.”

“Sounds like you,” he teases, albeit with a warm smile. “Alright.” He brings the indicated bags and box into the master bedroom and sets them on the bed, unzipping the bags to check the contents. The dresser drawers and closet take a bit of rearranging, but his clothes are shifted in a quarter-hour’s time and one of the bags is quickly emptied. He turns to the other one, snorts, and steps into the hallway. “Rich?” 

The younger man emerges from the guest room and pokes his head around the doorjamb. James gestures at the remaining duffel bag; Richard’s ginger and white cat has crept in while May’s back was turned and is now curled happily asleep among the contents.

“Pogo!” The cat grumbles when Richard prods him. “You silly monster, you’re getting fur everywhere!”

Both men are laughing, and once the cat is out of the way (enticed downstairs by a toy lobbed over the banister) they have Richard’s clothing unpacked and stored without fuss. The rest of the afternoon is quiet; James instructs Richard to make himself at home and leaves him to unpack and arrange his things, sitting down at his computer to do some research for the next series of ‘Man Lab’. 

Both men take a break for supper, though there’s little conversation, then each of them return to their tasks. The shower is running upstairs when Sally pokes her head into the lounge where James has settled in with a nice tome. She only has to whine once for James to sigh, set his book aside, and get up to grab the leash and a baggie. The house has been mostly closed down for the night when they return; all he has to do is lock the door and set the alarm. Up in the bedroom, he finds Richard in a tee and pants on top of the covers, sound asleep.

The uncertainty from earlier hits him like a kick to the chest, a disquieting reminder that he doesn't know how intimate their relationship will be. Of course, this could easily be solved by simply asking Hammond what he wants, not to mention why he's come to James, that just won't do. They are blokes, after all, and it's not like he’s going to wake Richard at the end of this long day to ask him. He undresses with his back turned, blushing over his own stupidity as he strips out of jumper and jeans. James shifts uneasily, bites his lower lip, and exhales, letting go of his indecision. It’s not in one smooth movement, but he pulls the covers out from under the smaller man, jostling him. 

“-es?” 

“Yep. Go back to sleep.”

There’s no reply. He shuts off the lights and gets into bed, falling asleep far more quickly than he'd expected. 

*

Waking up the first few mornings is bewildering, but at the end of the first week, he's adjusted to the new routine. At dawn, well before the alarm goes off, Sally wakes her master with plaintive whines and a cold nose. James gets to lie in, smirking into his pillow as Richard mumbles and pulls on jeans and a jumper to take the dog for a quick walk. While they’re gone, he drifts off to sleep again and Pogo appropriates Richard’s pillow. This tends to result in a bit of a ruckus when the other two return (the cat hogging the pillow, chilly hands invading his warm cocoon), but he likes that Richard and his pets have settled in and feel at home.

 

*

“James?”

He taps a few keys and leans back in his chair. “In the study, Rich.”

Richard enters the room and sits quietly on the squashy old sofa. James is aware of the other man gazing absently at the densely packed shelves while he finishes his task; his eyes still look far away when he finally turns and faces him. “Alright?”

“I, er. I want to propose now,” Hammond says, voice soft.

“Oh.”

Richard presses his palms against his thighs, causing James to worry that he’s going for the ‘down on one knee’ gesture, but thankfully he stays seated. “We’ve been mates for ages, now, and, er, you're pretty much everything I could want in a partner.” Cheeks flaming with the admission, he meets James’ eyes for a moment; May lets out a long breath and nods encouragement. “Given how easy it’s been so far, I think we have a decent chance of a good life together. So, um. Would you marry me?”

It's not the most romantic proposal, but this isn’t about romance and James is still moved by it. “Yes. Yes, I will.”


	5. Chapter 5

At no point does James dare to wonder ‘how hard could it be’ to enter into a civil partnership with one of his colleagues. If he did, he'd have to kick himself for being so foolish. 

It’s not the government that is asking them to read and sign twenty new documents every day. No, that part is refreshingly straightforward: submit a copy of Richard’s divorce decree, their proof of residence, pay a registration fee, and endure a twenty-eight day waiting period. It’s their individual agents, holdings and accounts that cause the headaches. Honestly, James is torn between adoring his solicitor for making certain he understands every form and document he signs, and loathing the man for the unending pile of paperwork. 

Never in his most fantastical imaginings did James consider that he and Richard might one day approve and sign prenuptial agreements to each other. But that day has come and gone, and he’s got the properly filed legal documents to prove it.

***

Once the four weeks are up and they have a date scheduled, he calls his mum and arranges a visit with her. They have always been close, she’s supported his somewhat alternative trek along life’s path. He can’t help but wonder if this newest divergence will be too much.

“So, I wanted to ask you, in person...” He begins, after they’ve finished lunch. The house is quiet and he has his mum’s full attention.

“Yes?”

“It’s not a favor, exactly, but I’d like you to be there-” Pauses, rubbing a thumb over his lips, decides to get right to the point. “I’m getting married.”

“James! I didn’t know you were seeing anyone, let alone so serious - who is she? Goodness, when is the wedding?”

A deep breath is warranted here, and he takes two or three. “It’s not quite like that. There won’t be a church do or anything, just a ceremony at a registrar’s. I say ‘married’, but it’s legally a civil partnership.” His eyes flick up to find her expression soft and open; listening.

“Alright,” she says. “Now tell me who the lucky man is, and the date so I can mark it in my diary.”

“The date is the twenty-third. And the ‘lucky man’ is Richard.”

“Richard Hammond?”

He and his mum talk more easily while working on a task, so the rest of the discussion is moved to her tiny greenhouse, where he helps re-pot some seedlings. When he leaves, he’s not sure she understands why he’s going through with it - and he can’t blame her, since he’s not entirely sure himself - but her happiness for him is genuine.

Richard is in the garage when he gets home, moodily prodding at his Suzuki. “Hey. Did you talk to...?” Based on the eyeroll and stormy face Hammond makes, there’s no need to finish the question. He frowns, nods, then pats Richard’s shoulder once before going into the house. A few minutes later, the other man comes in. He takes a swig from the bottle James offers him, then stands braced against the kitchen counter.

“She...doesn’t get it. Which, okay, I know marrying another man isn’t something she’s ever heard me talk about before now. But she wouldn’t let me explain, at all. ‘If it’s a wife you’re after, there are millions of girls out there who would suit you perfectly,’” he quotes, mimicking his mother’s voice almost perfectly. “And ‘why don’t I join one of those groups for divorced parents’. She even suggested online dating!” Richard shakes his head and exhales heavily. “I know she understands that I’m happier with someone. She thinks I should find someone new.”

“And you don’t want new,” James says for him.

“I really don’t.” Richard sways, side-stepping closer until he can rest his cheek on James’ shoulder. “I want comfortable, and familiar, and happy and easy.”

“We’re working on the easy bit, but the rest applies, I feel.” Warm breath soaks into his shirt as his partner laughs, and James smiles.

“I agree. How was your mum?”

“Surprised, but pleased as punch. Can’t wait to shop for an outfit and hat.”

***

Before they leave for the registrar’s, she does ask, “you’re sure?” Not trying to talk him out of it, but she is his mother and doesn’t want him to regret anything.

“Yeah, Mum.” He helps her with her coat, allowing her to see his simple smile. “I want this, too.”

At the end of the ceremony, the rings are exchanged, their certificate signed, and they share a light but sweet first kiss. 

***

Afterward, the mothers treat their sons to a catered lunch back in Hammersmith. 

Each time James picks up his fork or a glass, or even flexes his hand, the band of metal on his left ring finger shifts, drawing his gaze. 

“James, may I see your ring?”

James pauses, then extends his hand across the table so Mrs. Hammond can have a closer look. Next to her, his mother pops on her glasses to join in the inspection.

“Is that platinum?”

His thumb brushes against cool metal, turning the ring a few degrees so it's hammered texture catches the light. “No, white gold.” 

Mrs. Hammond makes an approving sound. “Very handsome, not too showy.” Their eyes meet, and she smiles. “Does Richard’s match? Did you choose them together?”

“They’re the same, yes. Rich wanted to pick them out, and I let him, with some limitations,” he answers, just as his partner returns from the w.c.

“What did you let me do?” 

“We were talking about your rings,” Mrs. May says. “You chose them?”

Richard’s eyes are warm, almost a nutmeg shade when they exchange a glance. They’ve been like that since the ceremony, James realises, reflecting Richard’s contentment. He’s content as well, and wonders if it shows. Beside him, Richard is telling their mums why he’d made that selection.

“James asked for no gems, and I didn’t want yellow gold. I saw this design and thought it fit us both.”

***

Somehow they get away with it and are partners for a full month before Andy or Jeremy find out. As it happens, they’re able to tell them on their own terms (mostly), at the traditional pre-season get-together/planning session at Jeremy’s. They talk about how to address it on the drive up: waggle their be-ringed hands in front of their friends’ faces? State the facts and refuse to discuss it further? Take the rings off and pretend nothing happened? Re-enact their ceremony? Rich is still snickering over how apoplectic the other two would be at seeing them kiss when James turns down the Clarksons’ drive. Before they can get out of the car, the front door opens and two large dogs barrel down the steps, followed by their master.

“I think,” James says, eyeing the barking dogs and Jeremy shouting at them, “perhaps we should just act...”

“Normal?” Richard suggests. “Well, normalish, anyway.”

“Yeah.”

From greeting Andy with a wave to Jeremy laughing himself to tears, it’s approximately twenty minutes, all told. “I said ‘ask him to move in’, May, not ‘marry him’,” Clarkson wheezes.

“I did ask him to move in,” James retorts mildly. Beside him, Richard nods confirmation. “He did. I’m the one who asked for marriage - well, civil partnership.”

Andy gives a muffled groan. Both hands are over his face, but the other three are able to make out the words ‘triplicate’, ‘BBC’, and ‘explanation’.

“What, the status update forms? Already filed ‘em. Those were done a month ago,” Richard pipes up.

“A month?!” Andy jumps up and heads for the kitchen, muttering something about needing a stronger drink. When Jeremy follows a moment later, James and Richard smirk at each other and giggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's awkward, I know. But I needed to get it out there.


	6. Chapter 6

Two months in, things are good - really good. Not very different at home, but the changes were easy and he has no complaints. Jeremy still gets a kick out of teasing them, but he doesn’t do it in front of their crew or audiences. There has been speculation about the rings in the forums on FinalGear; a few members have wondered if theirs are a coincidence, but so far no one’s publicly said ‘wonder if they married each other’. 

***

On this cold and rainy Sunday morning, James is wakened by a wet tongue on his hand and the rapid pant of a just-walked dog. “Ugh, Sally! No!” 

He hears the dog’s nails click as she rounds the bed to greet Pogo, who growls at her, then the quiet whuff as she retreats to her rug by the door. He can hear the shower going, and when he sits up he finds the Sunday paper fresh and crisp at the foot of the bed. By the time the shower shuts off, he’s arranged a pot of tea and breakfast on Richard’s night table and is reading in bed, halfway through his first cup. 

“What’s this, you lazing around in bed?”

“It’s nasty out and I’m comfortable.” 

“It’s not that bad. Well, it was fine until it began to rain.”

He looks up; Richard has donned boxers and is drying his arms and chest and hair. It’s an appealing sight, but he returns to the paper. “I’ve no reason to venture forth. Do you?”

Richard makes a noncommittal noise but doesn’t reply. James assumes he’s dressing for the day and is mildly surprised when he’s joined on the bed several minutes later. Richard’s hair is still drying, but he’s added a tee shirt and brought over the bowls of hot cereal, and they eat their breakfasts in an easy silence. It’s relaxed and cozy enough that after finishing his meal, James finds himself fighting off drowsiness. 

“If impromptu breakfasts in bed are the norm here, you are indeed a good partner,” Richard comments, taking the bowl from his hands. “Or husband.”

James snorts. “Sarah hated it.” 

“Really?” A section of the Telegraph is pilfered, and his husband settles back in the pillows, head on James’ shoulder. “That’s a shame.”

There’s another stretch of comfortable quiet, but James doesn’t get drowsy again. Instead, he finds himself voicing a question that’s been bugging him from the start. “Rich?”

“Mm?”

“I think I understand, now, what you meant - why you wanted to be married.”

Richard huffs. “That’s a relief.”

“Ha ha. Why me, though?”

“You’re not protesting?”

James sighs. “We wouldn’t be here right now if I were, would we?”

“I wanted it to be you because,” slightest of pauses, “I already loved you.”

That’s so far from anything he could have imagined, he’s sure he misheard. “What?”

Hammond sits up, clearly uncomfortable. James reaches out, just brushing his partner’s t-shirt covered back with the tips of his fingers. “Rich, say that again?”

“Why, so you can mock me for it?”

“God, no, ‘course not.” He shifts forward enough to fully touch Richard’s side. “I want to make sure I heard you correctly.”

Brown eyes regard him uneasily for a long moment, then Richard sighs. “When I made that little proposal, I said something like you were just about everything I’d want in a partner. I meant that - you were the only person I wanted, who I could belong to.”

“And - you love me?”

“I do, yeah.”

That’s all James needs to hear before tugging his partner close. They haven’t kissed since the ceremony; Richard tastes like oatmeal and cinnamon and pecans, and is more enthusiastic than James would have expected, had he considered this a possibility.

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted this?”

“I wasn’t sure I did. I knew I wanted what we’ve had so far, so I thought ‘okay, I’ll wait and see if it happens’.”

“Are you sure, now? I-” James pauses, trying not to give away how much he wants this. “Don’t force it, if you’re not.”

“I know that even if it were a gloriously sunny day out, I’d still want to be dead lazy and spend it lolling about, kissing you.”


	7. Not actually a chapter

Hello readers! Naina here, asking for some assistance. I'm having difficulty sorting out the rest of this tale and am in need of a beta reader, plus a Brit-picker. Interested and able? Please comment on this "chapter". 

Thanks for reading!

N.

**Author's Note:**

> Got any questions or suggestions? I'm on Tumblr as [magyarmagpie](http://magyarmagpie.tumblr.com).


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